


Perspective

by Era_Asha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: And rage, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Gen, Looking Glass, Lots of Shade, Trespasser Spoilers, Uthvir sighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Asha/pseuds/Era_Asha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as his goal to destroy the world was made common knowledge, not everyone was against Solas. A very select few were able to see past the end of the world, and stand with him. </p><p>Little did Lavellan know that when she was thrown back into the time of Arlathan, she wasn't the only one to make the journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feynite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feynite/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Looking Glass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867676) by [Feynite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feynite/pseuds/Feynite). 



> If you haven't read Feynite's 'Looking Glass', I can assure you this will make very little sense. Now while I can't control what you do, Go read it. Its an awesome fic and you are seriously missing out.

The hall was filled to the brim with chatter and blood wine in equal measure, joy flitted about through the air along with the thrill of victory. A particularly drunk guest began a song of one of Andruil's many great hunts and with each line more voices could be heard singing until the sound could shake the rafters.

Once the last verse was sung the crowd cheered and broke off into the casual chatter instigated by drink. No one noticed when a small slip of paper found its way into Pride’s hand. His brows furrowed and light confusion slipped through the air. He looked about to see where it had come from but the messenger had vanished in the crowd. Under the table he unfolded the small piece of parchment. In formal, looping script the note read, The simplest of gardens are often the most enjoyable. A moment later the note showed him a path through the maze of Andruil's holdings with a feminine voice saying, “I will be waiting for you, Solas _._ _Dread Wolf’s blessings upon you_.” He couldn’t understand the last phrase, but he had listen to Lavellan enough to know that it was spoken in Common.

Pride knew no other people than Lavellan and Curiosity that knew Common, and when he had attempted the language, the words had sounded foreign in his mouth. How had this other person have it sounding so... correct? He wondered. Lavellan had already gone to bed and Pride didn’t want to take any more of her rest than he already had.

“I’ve decided to retire for the night.” He said. There was barely a glance in his direction as he left the table, as everyone was enraptured in a story that Uthvir was telling. Taking full advantage of the distraction, he left the hall and beelined for the garden the note had lead him to.

The winding hallways lead further and further from the ruckus and song. Other than the Main Hall, the rest of the holding was silent, only disturbed by his footsteps. The sound was strangely ominous, or perhaps that was his own apprehension.

It did not take long to find the meeting place. He felt wards as he passed through the threshold but he couldn’t tell what they did without taking closer look. Before anything else however he noticed woman stood facing away from the entrance, gazing up at the open sky. Loose blonde hair toppled in waves across her back, shimmering like the stars above them. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, the first thing he noticed was her lack of Vallaslin. Normally, he would attribute her bare face with youth, but her eyes held as much weight as he had seen from any Evanuris. She was dressed in a gown that shimmered like wine reflecting light from a room of gold, the effect was striking, but it did not distract from the armor or the blood red dragon tattoo that traveled down her arm. She was analyzing him as well, though the only emotions that dotted the air around her was intrigue and the look on her face was indescrutable.

“You came? And even in a timely manner. I’m impressed.”

 

“I would hate to keep such an... interesting individual waiting.” He responded cautiously. Her face shifted to disappointment.

“You are so young.” She said. There was an odd gleam in her eyes that he couldn’t quite make out. “I’m sorry, you are merely not what I was expecting.”

“I may not be who you anticipated, but there were some curious parts of your note that I simply can not ignore.” Amusement danced from her eyes.

“There were a few interesting features about the note. Which one caught your interest?” She was toying with him. Trying to get him to give out information before she had to say a damn thing.

“The language you spoke.”

“Very interesting. So you do know it’s a language. It’s rare to see people who even understand that Dwarvish is a language. Let alone one that is only spoken by a select few.” He hated not having the upper hand. And the smirk on her face did nothing to stop the aggravation that grated at him. Fine then. If he cannot outmaneuver her there is always the more direct approach.

“How do you know Common?” Surprise dotted her features.

“Common? How would you know to call it that?”

“Answer the question and I might tell you.” She considered for a moment.

“Well... If you must know, I lived with it for a long time. Is that suitable?” So she was from the same time as Lavellan then, that explains that, but it also opens so many other questions

“Quite. And to answer your question, I know someone who speaks it.” The answer seemed to amuse her.

“Ah yes. Questions and vaguely worded answers. The true sign of being in politics for too long.” He couldn’t quite help the smile that creeped up on him.

“Well, you did begin with a very vague note.” She chuckled.

“True enough. Then why don’t I go on and break the ice.” She slightly bowed, “You may call me, Be’renan. And you are Solas, high ranking servant to Mythal and eventual Savior of the People. Now that I have revealed some of what I know, will you do me the same courtesy?” Her words surprised him, many would speak in circles for centuries, trying to gauge each other, before revealing their hand. Though he was still suspicious of this Be’renan, he could find no other way forward than honesty.

“You are from a different time, correct?” She smiled and nodded in affirmation.

“Indeed. A time that you helped shape.” Bitterness found it way into the air around Pride.

“You mean destroyed.” He corrected. Be’renan’s jaw clenched and a strange mix of sorrow and

frustration floated around her.

“That too.” The silence was tense before her emotions subsided. After a moment of thought she seemed to realize something. “Your Common speaking acquaintance, Is their name Banal’ras? Or maybe Lavellan?” His face must have given something away because she let out a sigh of relief. “Lavellan. She made it? Thank the Maker. Please, I must speak with her immediately, there so many things I have to tell her-” He cut her off.

“Not before I know more about you.” She stopped short.

“I guess that fair. From your perspective you and I have only just met me.” He gave her a questioning look,  “I presume since you knew of the destruction that you know your place as Fen’Harel as well?” He nodded, even if he felt that he was giving away something with the affirmation. “I was a close ally of yours before all of this. I am the reason that we are here in Andruil's home, instead of ash and dust on the charred ground. I wanted to save this world as much as you did, and even though I worked against her, as much as Lavellan did as well. I still do.” Horror spread through his body like ice.

“You followed that monster?”

“He was no more a monster than I.” She snapped. “And I did not follow him blindly, as many others did. I knew the cost, but our world was deteriorating. Slowly. By inches.” Just from hearing her speak he knew she had had this argument many times with many people. “I would rather be burned alive than slowly starve to death any day.” The silence was tense. Conflicting emotions on both sides filled the garden, until hers suddenly vanished. The conflict was still on her face, but he had to look for it, as he did with Lavellan. “Go.” She said. “Speak with her. I will be in the training yard when sun is.” Pride still had many questions but Be’renan was right, he needed to talk with Lavellan about this.

The way back was just as quiet as the way there, but now it was his own mind that was loud and imposing. He avoided the chaos of the dining hall all together, choosing to go straight to his bed chamber. Sleep was still a long time coming however, for his mind kept on mulling over the new information.

 _Be’renan was odd in many ways._ Pride thought. _First of all, she was able to let out emotion normally, which seemed near impossible for Lavellan. Secondly, the clothes she was wearing were expert craftsmanship, either she had somehow learned how to make them in the few short months she had been here, or, more likely, they were given to her. But even that brings up more questions, Who gave it to her? She had no Vallaslin and Pride knew of no craftsman with that level of skill outside of the Empire. Speaking of the Empire, how is she even here in Andruil’s Palace!? She is a barefaced elf. There is no chance she would be invited in. She must have snuck in somehow, but the only person he knows that can pull of a stunt like that is Haninan. There is no chance that a world filled with beings that only lived through their first century could create an individual like him. Right?_

So many questions. Too many, and yet those were not even half of the questions he still had. With no way to vent his frustration he simply tossed and turned until exhaustion finally dragged him into the dreaming.

  


He woke to faint pre-dawn light streaming through the window, but even sleep could not ease the uneasy feeling of not knowing. Pride slipped into Lavellan’s room and told her of Be’renan and he spoke he could see suspicion and hope in equal measure dotting her features.

“She obviously knew of me, but my name wasn’t exactly a secret. Are you sure she didn’t give any other name?”

“Yes, but it could have easily been an alias of some kind.”

“I’m certain it was. I spent a lot of time with the name of his agents and I don't remember that name ever being used.” It was nice, seeing Lavellan think of her world without the usual grief that accompanied it. She was, without a doubt, at her best with a problem in front of her, the title Inquisitor seemed to fit better than she ever realized. “I guess the only way we’ll know is to go find out.” She concluded.

The sun had barely risen when they poked their heads into Curiosity’s room. After seeing her lanky form sprawled out across the bed they silently agreed to let her be. They were some of the first people out and about but when they got to the training yard, Be’renan was there, working with two spirits on a glowing ward. One spirit was a flurry of sparks and the other was vaguely elf-shaped and made of tarnished gold light. Be’renan’s chosen color theme was apparent even in her choice of companions, but for this meeting she was in simple armor and wore Ghilan'nain's vallaslin.

At the sight of Be’renan, Lavallen visibly tensed, and put a hand on her sword.  Four glowing eyes turned toward them as they entered the training yard.  Be’renan looked up at the movement and her soft cloud of emotion vanished as Pride and Lavellan approached. Be’renan stood and clasped her hands behind her back while the two women stared eachother down. The silence lasted for a good two minutes before she greeted Lavellan in common.

“ _Inquisitor Lavellan._ ” Lavellan inclined her head and answered in turn.

“ _General Leviticus._ ” The two of them spoke with the same cold formality that the Evanuris did. He knew Lavellan had been a leader before all of this, but he saw it now more than ever. Her stance was proud, the line of her shoulders had none of the unsurity that he had seen in the past months, and her face held unquestionable authority. Even her voice rang with command, “You’re younger than the last time I saw you. The blood writing is also new.”

“And I remember you being distinctly less whole the last time I saw _you_ , but things change, as they always do.” He could tell the fury that settled in below Lavellan’s practiced mask of indifference by the twitch of her jaw. Be’renan continued. “Would you like to duel _Inquisitor_ , I’ve heard it’s good for the blood.”

“I don’t know if the blood between us can be made better, _General._ ”

“Nonsense! It’s a new day, a new place, even a whole new world. Who's to say we can’t start over as well?” Even the polite indifference faded to loathing as Be’renan spoke.

“If I agree to spar with you, will you shut up?” Be’renan smiled.

“Yes. Weapon choice? I did issue the challenge.”

“Short Sword. As you’d expect. Are we going to first blood or to yield?”

“Yield, of course. If you would like to yield on first blood, feel free.” Lavellan huffed in dark amusement.

“That’s unlikely. What rule set are we using? _Rivaini_?” While they continued hashing out a few rules, Pride took the opportunity to learn more about their world.  This was obviously a common way to settle disputes with how many different rules and rule sets there were. He felt sad at how much knowledge Lavellan held, that she would never be able to use again. Even with her mere 31 years of living she knew so much. He suddenly felt a slight pang of regret for not bringing Curiosity, she would have loved to see this.

“Do not interfere.” Lavellan warned him. “There will be blood, but I doubt anything will be fatal.”  The warning set him on edge almost as much as the swords did.

“Thank you, Passion.” Be’renan said after the flurry of sparks brought her an appropriate weapon, another sword from the dreaming, he noticed, it matched its creator closely, a glowing ember in the shape of a blade.

They dropped into athletic positions and started stalking each other. It was only a matter of moments before Lavellan launched into a series of strikes. Be’renan took it in stride, blocking with an ease that Pride envied. She was even able to lash out with her blade and slightly nick Lavellan’s thigh.

“Is it time to yield now?” Be’renan teased. It was only a small cut, but she saw the fear around Pride and gave him a knowing, predatory smile. Lavellan took the opportunity to return the favor and Be’renan came away with blood trickling down her shoulder.

The fight continued that way. A back and forth of blows, a sheen of sweat covered them both, making them glisten in the soft morning light. Each time their blades met a shower of sparks would fall to the ground, causing momentary sharp shadows each time they clashed. Watching them trade blows was like watching two dragons, both terrifying and beautiful. The shower of red and gold light coming off of their weapons only enforced the analogy. Lavellan had cold fury exuding from her, similar to when she would spar with Rage, but Be’renan was smiling, obviously enjoying herself.

Even without any magic, they were both extremely deadly. At times Pride’s eyes couldn’t even keep up with their movements, the only way of knowing an exchange had happened at all was the sound of swords clashing. He began to realize how outmatched he would be facing either of these women without magic. Maybe even with. He knew Lavellan’s strength after sparring with her each morning, but Be’renan was equally, if not more, efficient.

After a particularly vicious lunge from Be’renan, Lavellan managed to sweep a leg out and send her sprawling on the ground with a sword at her throat.

“Well done.” Be’renan conceded. Lavellan sheathed her sword and moved away from her opponent, not bothering to help her up. “It’s rare for me to find such a formidable opponent.” Be’renan said as she got up and dusted off her clothes.

“What is this about?” Lavellan snapped.

“Did you not enjoy our duel?” Be’renan attempted to keep her tone light, but all she received for her efforts was a look that could level a mountain. She responded with a glare of her own. “Fine. This is about giving this _maker-forsaken world_ a second chance.”

“When do you ever give things _chances?_ ” Lavellan sneered and Be’renan’s jaw jumped as she ground her teeth.

“You got plenty. I could've killed you a hundred times over if not for him.” Be’renan gestured toward Pride.

“He is not the man we knew and you know it.”

“No, your right. If I had Solas here we would’ve already turned this into a happy ending.” They began to slip in and out of common, but Pride didn’t dare step in to mediate, not after the fight he just witnessed. He could understand enough by their vicious tone.

“You won, _General_. You already have your happy ending.”

“War never has a _happy_ ending. You know that almost as well as I do.”

 _“Almost!?_ Well it's not as if you shared enough for me to understand you and your _great knowledge!_ ” Lavellan’s bitter sarcasm crossed a line.

“I gave you as much knowledge as I could spare! I wanted you to-” Be’renan’s shouting suddenly stopped as she took a deep breath. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “This is... not what I came here for.”

“Then, please, enlighten us.” Pride was certain he could see the contempt coming off of Lavellan, but the air remained empty, as usual.

“I came here to see if Solas got through, and when I learned that he sent you in his stead, I knew you would need help. I came to offer aid.” Lavellan raised an eyebrow. “And all I’ve been is condescending. I’m sorry, Inquisitor, this was not my intent.” Lavellan seemed taken back by the apology. The anger didn’t go away, per say, but it did take a back seat to disbelief.

“Now you want to help? After four years of trying convince you, you want to help.” Lavellan rubbed her face in irritation.

“You carry the heart, yes?” Be’renan asked. Lavellan begrudgingly nodded, “Then you know I cannot do this without you. You came here with little to no knowledge of what you were stepping into but Solas armed me with as much as he could. We can help each other.”

“Why would you need the heart?” Lavellan asked, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

“I will answer that question, as well as any others that you may have, but not here. My friends can only deter so many people and the palace is starting to wake. Meet me in the garden again later today. I will have it sufficiently warded against any who would attempt to hear us.” With that Be’renan turned and left, unfurling her conflicted emotions as she whent.

Now that Pride was no longer distracted with the vicious argument, he turned to Lavellan and began to heal the different bruises and cuts Lavellan had received during the duel. Once the anger subsided somewhat Lavellan sagged against the full weight of the world she left. Pride looked on with concern as she deflated.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I will be.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until he asked, “Who is she?”

Lavellan sighed. “Her name is Lucia Leviticus. She was _Fen’Harel’s’_ right hand after he left the Inquisition.”

“If she was... _his_ right hand, then why didn’t I see her in your story at the Well?”

“You probably did, but...” Lavellan fought for the right words for a moment, “Time had... taken its toll on her body at that point. She looked very different. Also, We’ve only ever really seen each other from the opposite sides of battlefields. I mostly know her from spy reports and strategies that clashed against my own.” She thought for a moment, “Some conflict is expected, I guess.”

Pride’s mind had gone somewhere entirely different, however. “Wait, you mean she reversed the damage time had done to her?”

Lavellan looked at him curiously. “I presume so. Unless it was an illusion of some kind.”

“I did not sense any magic of that kind on her.”

“Well you can always check when we meet with her again.”

Pride was surprised.“So we are going then?”

Lavellan gave a small huff. “Yes. She was irritating and infuriating, but also correct, we do need knowledge. If we can get a better grasp on how to fix this,” She gestured generally to the world at large. “It could mean the difference between success and failure.”

  


Curiosity was heartbroken at not being able to meet Be’renan. They spoke of the encounter in hushed tones in her room and Curiosity insisted to come with them to meet Be’renan that evening. The rest of the day would have been boring if not for the constant apprehension. Lavellan and Curiosity went off to attempt shape changing and Pride ran about doing tasks for Thenvunin. Again. Honestly, even though it wasn’t necessary after Conceits death, irritating him had almost become habit at this point, the wry amusement Pride got from it was worth it.

They headed toward the garden around sunset, the sun cast long drawn out shadows, enhancing the unsettling effect of the trophies lining the walls. They approached the garden only to be startled by the golden spirit from earlier, who suddenly appeared in front of them. It held a glowing finger to it mouth indicating silence. “Be still.” It commanded. A beat passed, then, Be’renan walked out of the garden, not even glancing in their direction. She was bare faced again.

“Are you coming? We still have much to discuss and must retrieve my gift for you.”

Shock and alarm sparked across Pride’s skin at the responding voice.

“I have not been pushed about like this for many years. My children don’t even speak to me in such a way.” Mythal stepped from the threshold and mild amusement hovered around her. Be’renan was in her iconic colors and Mythal almost matched if not for the starlight that weaved itself up her legs and across her chest. Mythal’s gaze was sharp as ever but her eyes glazed over them as if they did not exist at all. The two of them turned and began walking down the opposite corridor, two golden figures in a hallway made of bone.

“Well then aren’t I lucky I’m not them then.” Be’renan finished. They both chucked as they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Pride’s deep desire to follow them did not dissipate until the last of their footsteps had gone well out of earshot. It was Curiosity who broke the tense silence.

“I have so many questions.”

“And hopefully I can provide answers.” The spirit in front of them responded, “Come follow me.” The three of them followed the golden light into the garden. This spirit was interesting to Pride’s eye, usually he could tell a spirit’s nature from this close but this one remained a mystery. If it was powerful enough to shield them from Mythal’s gaze it should be exuding its nature, Pride thought as they crossed the threshold into the garden.

“You may call me Memory, I’m sorry that Be’renan wasn’t able to greet you herself but, as you saw, she is currently occupied. I should be able to answer most questions you may have. We are safe from prying eyes, for the moment.”

Pride began the interrogation. “Why is she with Mythal?”

“She is currently solidifying her place in the All-Mother's good graces.” Memory spoke in clipped, matter-of-fact tones that did nothing to reveal more of its nature to Pride.

“Why would Mythal bother with Be’renan?”

“Because she has knowledge that Mythal does not.”

“What knowledge?” The Spirit looked amused at his mounting irritation.

“All of it.” His jaw clenched and his disappointment at this line of questioning was palpable, Lavellan continued, in his place.

“Do you know where Be’renan came from?”

“Originally? Seheron. But if you’re asking of my knowledge of Thedas as it was, Be’renan, Passion and I all went through the fold together.”

“If you knew her from before than why do you call her Be’renan?” Curiosity piped in.

“It would be unwise to call her a name that does not befit one of the people. She has changed her name many times through the years I have known her. Lucia was hardly her first.”

Lavellan and Curiosity continued their back and forth with Memory for a few more minutes until Be’renan re-entered the garden with a small smile on her face. She immediately sobered at the sight of them.

“I am glad you came. Sorry for keeping you waiting.” Pride immediately acted on the alarm he felt on discovering their conversation.

“You are bare faced.” Her eyebrow raised, “You were speaking at Mythal, as an equal, without any markings. Do you have a death wish?” That last question was half threat and half exasperation.

Be’renan snorted. “Interesting choice of words, but I knew what I was doing, _Solas_. I have been dealing with her much longer than you have.” Three brows furrowed at the statement.

Curiosity spoke first. “But I though your people only lived to one hundred? Pride has been with her for four hundred.”

Be’renan’s lips quirked in suppressed mirth as her eyes darted over to Pride. She schooled her features and turned her attentions toward Curiosity. “And who is this little bird?”

“I am Curiosity.”

A soft smile graced her lips. “Apt name. Well, Curiosity, normally you would be correct but I am a special case. I have lived for twelve hundred and fifty... Five years.”

Lavellan’s gaze sharpened. “You’re not one of The People then?”

“No. I was born during the first blight.”

“Then how?”

 _“Magisters_ do love their experiments.” Be’renan answered.

“Ah.” Lavellan said. As if that explained everything.

“What was that word?” Curiosity questioned.

Lavellan though for a moment. “I believe the closest word would be ‘evanuris’. But it’s not a perfect translation, the people she speaks of were powerful mages who ran the Tevene Government. They were well known for experimenting on their slaves.” She explained.

Be’renan continued Lavellan’s thought. “I don’t know. The definition you gave sounds perfect for ‘evanuris’.”

“To true.” Lavellan agreed.

Those words were dangerously close to treason, and even with the silencing wards, Pride opted to change the subject. “Interesting, but that does not explain how you know Mythal or why you relinquished the safety your markings provided.”

“It was only a short term guise, anyways. Both Andruil and Mythal are far from stupid, I did not hope to hide under their noses for long. I’ve already spoken with Andruil, and I was pleasantly surprised when Mythal came to speak with me, so that I didn’t disturb her ‘much needed’ rest.” The way she said it made no doubt in his mind that she new Mythal was faking. “Mythal knows when we come from, but please, tell me she doesn't know of the Titans. I wasn’t able to ferret out that information with our discussion.”

“She knows of them, but not the power they represent.”

Be’renan let out a short sigh of relief. “That’s something at least. I was also able to discover that you three made a trip as ambassadors to one of the Thiags. You found something there, didn’t you.”

Pride stepped in. “We have been giving quite a bit of information. Before we move on I wouldn’t mind some of your own. Like where you’ve been since you got here. We searched around the area we found Lavellan and found no tracks.”

Be’renan sighed. “I fled from the place we came through as soon as I was able. After the destruction... I’m impressed that anyone got through alive.” She gestured to Memory while she turned to Lavellan. “We were there when the fold to this world first opened. Originally, Solas was supposed to come with me, and he would have been working with Mythal while I sought out the Nameless. I didn’t bother checking if anyone else came through, as I was unequipped to handle Mythal without his knowledge, so I continued my mission and went to the Nameless. I’ve been with them ever since.”

“Mythal I understand, but why the Nameless? It’s not as if they have much power after the war.” Pride questioned.

“They are at one of their lowest points in history. This is the perfect time to gain control of an organization like that.” Pride’s confusion dotted the air. “When the people are free from the Evanuris, you will thank me.” She faced Lavellan. “You saw the blank city, right? Streets made colorless and the same simply so they are not ugly. All the while, People are sacrificed for aesthetics or entertainment or contraptions that don’t even _do_ anything.”

Her words were most definitely treason and it made Pride extremely uncomfortable that he agreed with them. “The Nameless are not perfect by any stretch but I can forge them to new purpose. The People will not have to suffer any longer than it takes for them to see what they are missing. And maybe, without the Evanuris gaining the power that they did there might be no need for a veil, and the world may finally stop dying.”

For the first time, Pride was able to see the burden that Be’renan carried. It was the same as Lavellan’s in many ways. Their grief was shared, of course, but so was their unwavering desire to do what was right and keep moving.

Be’renan looked into Lavellan’s eyes, as if willing her to understand. “Don’t you see? I did not do this because this world is better or more beautiful. We could stop the blight before it destroys Thedas time and time again. We could stop places like Tevinter from rising up and enslaving thousands. We could help _our_ people, not the people here in these gilded cages, but the ones we know and love. They may all be born again someday, and the world that they live in could be kind and without cruel people in power, without corruption constantly tightening its hold on this world. Our World.”

Lavellan was silent for a time before she responded. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the Blight is already here. We found red lyrium.”

Be’renan drew a sharp breath. “In the titan?” Lavellan nodded. “Please. Tell me everything.” With a sigh, Lavellan told her about the deep roads, the earthquakes, the Dwarves, even Solas and what he told her. The air grew more grim as the story progressed, but Be’renan was quiet until the very end.

“I hate being right about things like this... When he gave me his theory for time travel I argued with him for weeks over this. How can you destroy what cannot be unmade? He argued that I couldn't prove souls existed, but I knew better and planned for it. You said you translated the song for the titan? I may be able to do something to lessen the load, somewhat, but I would need to borrow you for a day or so if I’m going to help you like this.”

Pride felt protectiveness rise from his chest into the air. “Why.”

“To study the heart, of course. I would rather not work off of theory if I don’t have to. I’ve had it lead to catastrophe before.”

“And I will go with you.” Curiosity echoed the sentiment.

“ _Solas_. You are too high profile. Days, missing, without an order from Mythal, who is still theoretically bedridden? It would be foolish. But, if you would like to send someone, I see no issue with Curiosity coming along. I wouldn’t want to steal your heart away. All I want is to do some magical analysis. I will not hurt her or keep her in any way.” Pride colored but the air remained stubbornly focused on protection with a twinge of irritation.

Pride sighed “I concede your point.” He turned toward Lavellan. “What do you think? It is ultimately your decision.”

“I think,” Lavellan began, “Before I agree to anything I would like to know where we're going and what, exactly, this research is for.”

“Gladly.” A projection of the mapped world appeared in front of Be’renan, complete with cities, roads, and eluvian markers. “Currently we are here.” She pointed to a red dot on the map. “I have access to a magical laboratory that is here, on the coast of the _Volea Sea_ ,” She looked over at Pride. “ Or whatever it’s called now.”

“The Emerald Waters.” Pride supplemented.

“Yes. That. Thank you.”

“I doubt that you would have access to the palace eluvian. How would you get there?”

“Ah. There is an eluvian in a village to the south about a half day’s ride from here. I came that one to get here.” She explained.

Pride was impressed with the map in front of him. Especially the eluvian markers, there were quite a few eluvians that he didn’t know about. He made a mental notes about those ones. “How did you get all of this?” Pride wondered.

“I’ve been busy these past few months. Some I was able to glean from spirits, others from traveled elven or records I was able to find, but most of it... You gave to me before I got here.” There was a slightly awkward silence before Be’renan continued her explanation. “So, anyway, we would be there for a few days while I researched the heart.”

“You said that, but what is the research for?” Lavellan questioned.

“The dwarves of this era haven’t made truly efficient Golems yet. They have the Sha’Brytol, of course, but the only way to make true golems, like the giant ones that protected _Minrathos_ ,  you need souls. With the amount of time I had, I was able to achieve one successful golem made from red lyrium. But I needed the heart to direct the souls from the lyrium into the golem I made. I’m hoping to find out how the heart does that and if I can replicate it.”

“Golems?” Curiosity asked.

“People made of stone that can walk and think. Think of the people that Ghilan’nain tries to create, but stone.” Curiosities interest doubled at the explanation.

“How do you make them? Do they think the same as The People? Would the souls keep their memory or would they forget? Do you know?”

Be’renan paused for a moment, considering Curiosity. “Carefully. Yes. Sometimes. And yes.” Curiosity blinked at the answers. They both answered her questions while simultaneously not answering them at all. Be’renan smiled at Curiosity’s momentary confusion.

Lavellan ignored the back and forth and pressed on. “Having golems is all well and good, but how would they help us. Other than giving you an army, which I am understandably apprehensive toward.” Be’renan barked a laugh.

“You’re quick. But by removing souls from the Blight we can lessen the load that the Titans have to process. If you get a chance to translate the red lyrium for other Titans and also not die, that's wonderful, but until then the Titans will continue to poison themselves on our friends and family. There is no doubt in my mind that you will be able to translate the song for all of the titans one day, but in the interim our people could be placed into golems and then released after more of the Titans are singing the correct song.”

Though he was still uncertain of Be’renan, Pride agreed with any plan that lessened the risk to Lavellan’s life. Lavellan, however, seemed unconvinced. “And you still get an army that’s resistant to magic in a world that thrives off of it.”

“How about this. I can make a promise to you in the magically binding fashion that this world is so fond of. I will vow to never use these golems against you or your allies.”

“No. I am not familiar enough with how it works. Just trust that if you do break that promise I will happily kill you in your sleep.” Pride raised his eyebrows at Lavellan. The threat was uncommonly vicious, but Be’renan hardly seem surprised at the threat.

“Oh believe me, I trust that more than anything else I’ve seen in this world so far.”

  


They met just as the sun had risen the next day, on a trail leading outside the palace. Be’renan approached the group with two lizard-like creatures that were that were a solid foot taller than he was. The reigns she passed to Lavellan belonged to a creature with emerald scales that shimmered like the sea on a bright summer's day. Curiosity’s was various shades of navy, striped with black streaks up and down its sides. They seemed tame enough but Pride eyed their sharp canines with suspicion.

“These are the prettiest dracolisks I have ever seen. How did you even get a hold of them?” Lavellan asked.

“I know, these are much prettier than any I’ve ever rode, and less likely to bite your fingers. From what I’ve heard, they were one of Ghilan'nain’s failed experiments and were released into the wild. I don’t know why they didn’t just kill them, but they’ll make fine mounts for us. I found these two wandering on the outskirts of the village that we’re headed.”

“But there are three of us.” Curiosity noted.

“These are for you two, I will have no issue keeping up.” Light and magic surrounded Be’renan for a moment, only to reveal a griffon in her stead. She was practically posing, white and gold wings outstretched, paws and talons firmly planted on the ground, beak raised in a proud stance.

Lavellan’s reaction was immediate, a gentle gasp with eyes wide as dinner plates. While Pride’s wonder did not overtake him as it did Lavellan, he was impressed. Such a large, powerful form was no easy task. His mind took a darker turn as he thought of how difficult It would be to stop someone with that much power to waste on _travel_.

He watched them leave with doubt sinking in his gut.


End file.
